Up To The Challenge
by Ceredwen
Summary: Collection of drabbles that are in response to the challenges over at the LJ community grangerblack100. Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.
1. Green Challenge

**Around The Lake**

In the moonlight, the leaves of green appeared strangely grey, whispering things strange and seductive as branches swayed languorously in the warm breeze. Liberated from its unlikely confines, an unruly, wavy tendril broke free, momentarily obscuring her view of him. His rough fingers, defiantly tender, caressed her youthful cheek, clearing her vision. Unconsciously, without permission, her face moved traitorously into the gesture, betraying her. Focusing on the green algae that defined the lake's boundary, she tried to pretend her cheeks weren't stained with pink. Softly, so quiet she could almost pretend she hadn't heard, her name passed across his lips.


	2. Wine Challenge

**Under The Influence**

Warm and wet, sliding down her throat, clouding her brain, Sirius' lips, his tongue, blistered her skin as he leisurely stalked her pleasure. More effective then the wine, as yet untouched in the ancient crystal, his mouth stripped away her logic and reason. Drunk on his tender torture she allowed a breathy sigh to escape her lips. Coarse fingers ghosted to her top, pushing aside fabric, revealing more skin that was greedy for his touch. Intoxicated, she helped remove the bothersome blouse. He chuckled softy. "Perhaps we should take this to my room," he enticed.

Unable to speak, Hermione nodded.


	3. Mercury Challenge

**Retrograde**

"Whenever he's around I can't think straight and have the strangest urge to run my fingers through his hair." Sirius spoke the words seductively in Hermione's ear, his hot breath startled her, forcing a blush.

She looked up horrorstruck and slightly aroused. A cold trickle of dread danced along her spine while something warmer fizzed in her belly. "How?" she whispered.

"Came addressed for me," he replied casually, still at her ear. He was close enough for her to feel the heat pouring off his body.

Struggling for purchase, her mind grasped at any tendril of reason. "Why?"

He shrugged, smug, not going anywhere, anytime soon. "Mercury is in retrograde." He rolled his eyes when she didn't understand. "Communication goes all wonky."

"Rubbish," she muttered darkly.

"Really?" he asked amused. "Then why is your letter to Ginny in my hands?"

Having no answer to that question she opted to glare hoping it would have some affect on the twisted little smile he was affecting. It didn't. It only encouraged him.

"I wonder…how's your thinking right about now?" She was caught in his gaze like a mouse hypnotized by the cobra. "I bet your fingers would feel wonderful in my hair…"


	4. Sin Challenge

**Entertained**

Watching Harry, Ron and Hermione interact was only mildly entertaining but seeing as it was the best Sirius could hope for so long as he was trapped in his family's decrepit home, he availed himself of it as unobtrusively as he could. Tightly wound and more than a little obsessive made Hermione a fascinating specimen for him to analyze. Once and only once the prim bookworm had asked him what he would do first once his name was cleared. Sensing an opportunity to rattle her cage he let his mouth slowly curve up in a languid smile before answering.

"Sin."


	5. Postcards From Ireland Challenge

**Long Distance**

_Dear Sirius,_

_I'm all settled in but terribly homesick. Falling asleep at night is difficult without your arms around me. Do you miss me as much as I miss you?_

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

_My dearest, traitorous runaway,_

_My cold and lonely bed misses you desperately and doesn't understand why school in Ireland is more important than keeping it warm with that sinful body of yours. The bedroom has fallen into depression now that it no longer hears you call out my name as you come undone beneath me. I do my best at keeping them both satisfied with my lonely wank in the dark of night but it just isn't the same. The Christmas hols are so far away…_

_Your faithful Padfoot_

_My darling Padfoot,_

_Tell me what does your bed imagine we will do once I return home? Perhaps if I better understood what it thinks will happen I could make arrangements to come home on weekends. I didn't think that would be possible but my roommate also has a boyfriend in London and she goes home every other weekend. Apparently he too has a despondent bed._

_Your loving Hermione (who isn't a runaway)_

_My most beloved Vixen,_

_How you love to tease me, you are a wicked little witch. My bed is convinced that I'm going to rip off all your clothes, throw you down onto it and feast on that tight little cunt of yours. It whispers to me in the night that I will lick your sweet fruit until you are screaming and quivering. My bed is only half right, that's just where I'm going to start…_

_Counting the seconds 'til you come home,_

_Sirius_

Remus looked over at Sirius who was reading the postcards from Ireland that Hermione had sent since she left to further her magical education. In the days since his receiving her last, since he had sent her a reply, Sirius had seemed expectant to the point of irritation. He was waiting for something but Remus didn't know what, it would be a few months before either of them saw Hermione home.

The light scratch at the drawing room door drew the attention of the two wizards who were reclining by the fire. Remus' look of shock was in stark contrast to Sirius' relieved features, apparently he had known she would come.

"I'll explain later," said Sirius as he jogged to the doorway and took Hermione by the hand, leading her away to that cold and lonely bed.


	6. Hands Challenge

**In Between**

Pressing her head back against the silk covered pillows, Hermione glanced up at her hands, firm on the cool iron of the metal bars, and then let her eyes flutter before shutting them tight. Braced exquisitely between the headboard and Sirius, she praised him by softly uttering his name. Still holding on with one, she let the other glide down his chest, lightly scratching, caressing and then it was his turn to whisper her name. Tracing her fingers lightly back up over his hot skin and hard muscle, then curling around his neck, she encouraged him down for a kiss.


	7. Suitcase In The Hall Challenge

**Change of Plan**

Setting her keys on the long marble topped entry way table, Hermione breathed in the smell of home, a comfort after an arduous day in the musty bowels of the Ministry. Not that number tweleve Grimmauld Place didn't have its own smell, a formerly repugnant smell, when she was young, before this old haunt had been transformed, renovated and virtually given a lobotomy. Harry made it a showplace again, restored its grandeur while stripping it of its malintent. Now it smelled of oil polished wood floors, fine crafted leather furnishings, fresh air that stole in through opened windows and Sirius.

She pushed that thought aside because it hurt, it was an empty feeling, laced with regret and surprise. The surprise was the hardest to grapple with because she thought was smarter then this, smart enough to recognise her own feelings, smart enough to pick up on the clues he had been dropping about his feelings for her. The truth of the matter hit her at her desk at work that morning, musing over his reasons to get out and see the world, get away from all he knew and loved. _He had to get away from her and her rejection._

Placing one foot in front of the other, taking steps toward the kitchen, her foot caught on something and nearly brought her to the floor. The offending object was a haphazardly placed suitcase in the hallway, Sirius' suitcase. The commotion in the hallway caught the attention of the only other occupant in the house who looked around the corner and down into the ancient hall, his face set in determination. Stormy grey eyes pierced her, seemingly rooting her to the spot with fierce intensity, exposing him completely. Any doubt she may have harbored was instantly burned to cinders and ash.

"I'm through with half measures with you, Hermione," he said striding forward, never dropping his gaze. Upon reaching her he gave her a light shove against the wall, forcing a small gasp from her. "I love you and I think you love me too." And then his lips were on hers, one hand on her hip holding her in place the other reaching into her hair to cradle her head. A brief touch of annoyance was dispelled as he robbed her of all rational thought, only permitting her to feel as he shared his fire with her, setting her ablaze.

"Am I wrong?" he mumured softly, tenderly as his lips nibbled at her jaw, teeth grazing her skin and tongue caressing hot and wet along her neck. Grabbing the lapels of his jacket for support she tried to tell him that he was absolutely right and that she was a fool and thank god he changed his mind but all that escaped her lips was a pathetic whimper. Just as suddenly as his most welcome assault had started, it stopped as he stepped back cautiously to observe her, to gauge if he had in fact made an enormous, embarassing mistake.

Moving in step with him she did the only thing that made sense and went at him this time with every ounce of love and need that she had been repressing for god only knows why. Pressure behind her knees was the only warning before her feet left the ground and she was crushed against him, cradled in his arms, a slight noise of complaint slipping between her lips. "I didn't think he so," he said smiling with smug confidence, ascending the stairs, taking the steps two at time before entering his bedroom and slamming the door shut behind them.


	8. Don't Forget Challenge

**The Hanged Man**

"Don't forget about me."

The easy words are playful, humorously light with soft, barely there romantic underpinnings, the earnest content in contradiction with the delivery, hiding turbulence beneath casual, practiced charm. The flirtatious tug, the only plea he'll give her, covers the self denigration that is encrypted in his personal history. Neither here nor there, unsure what he means, his goodbye hangs somewhere in between, just like him.

_Of course you'll forget about me..._

The smooth curving smile that twists up on one side, the smile that lies about his self assurance, fails to reach his eyes. What does is swift and strong and gone with a blink, vanishing before the exhale is complete. It is ancient and weary and..._needful_.

For the first time Hermione sees and _understands_...

Creeping cold fingers of emptiness and gnawing, chewing loneliness slam into her violently, his dark spell upon her and she feels what he fears. It is a sore test of her reason to believe that their friendship means more to him than he has shared. The grave chill that preceded the instance of awareness that she has _hungered _for is chased away by the choice now burning her from within, replacing the cold as it boils hot onto her skin.

_And so she chooses... _

To his hazy recollection, soft, wet lips against his own had never before reordered the universe, imparting their truth with each moist, eager pass. Her fire burns him through, searing and soldering, welding his soul to hers, whispering to him all the mysteries that will keep the empty, lonely things at bay.


	9. Disease Challenge

**Summary:** In tarot The Fool is the start of a new path. This is a continuation of the The Hanged Man (sort of).

**The Fool**

"You Fool!"

The sweetness of feminine breath in his ear nudges something buried deep within him that has been slumbering for decades.

To want, to hunger, to ache; these he understood, but to _feel_...

The stranglehold of memories that disease and disturb slips, just a little and it is enough. Like a lion after a long nap, the beast stirs and stretches, lifting its head to test the wind of sweet promises of a new path he never thought would be his.

"I know," he whispers against the skin of her throat between kisses that make her tremble. "I never..."

Instead of finishing his thought, he scrapes teeth along skin in soft nips, soothing gentle bites of love with his hot, wet tongue, savoring the taste of her. There are no words to describe the depth and breadth of his gratitude, only the eloquence of flesh will do.

_And he does..._

In characters his soul invents, he forms words to thank her in long, drawn out pornographic letters of love and devotion he writes on her skin. Falling into her, again and again, his fierce focus is on finding that moment when her head falls back, her eyes roll away and she loses herself in the fiery bliss that only he can bring her.


	10. Spring Challenge

**Fountain of Youth**

Lying in the soft, sweetness of Hermione's arms, listening to her heart rate slow, feeling the gentle puff of her breath against his chest, Sirius could almost imagine that Spring had returned to his tired soul. Chuckling softly at himself for such fanciful thoughts brought her questioning eyes to his.

"What?" she whispered, kissing the marks on his chest that evidenced his life had not always been this pleasant.

"You make me feel young again," he whispered back, rolling them gently so that now he hovered over her. With a devil's gleam in his eye, he slowly slid down her body, his lips blazing a hot path along his southerly track.


	11. Fall Challenge

**Author's Note: **Not written for grangerblack100 but for the Fall Challenge at sirius100.

**Not Quite Eden**

Hearing the squealing whine of old pipes, Sirius looked up from the newspaper to watch Hermione wash a bright, red apple, fresh from the fall harvest. Placing it on a worn out wooden cutting board and grabbing a knife from the drawer, she walked to the table and began carefully cutting it into wedges. Looking up to find him watching her intently, she blushed at the force of his gaze.

"Want some?" she asked, pushing the wedges forward.

Sirius smiled rougishly. "Tempting me with apples, love? Not terribly original, that."

Hermione snorted. "Adam was innocent, you Mr. Black, are anything but."


End file.
